Tired of Waiting
by TashaLaw
Summary: "Oh, I'm not letting you take it back," Castle stated. "You asked me out, and I accepted. You owe me a date, Kate Beckett." Oneshot. Post Headhunters.


**Title**: Tired of Waiting (Aren't We All?)

**Summary**: "Oh, I'm not letting you take it back," Castle stated. "You asked me out, and I accepted. You owe me a date, Kate Beckett." Oneshot. Post Headhunters.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Castle.

**A/N**: Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more... I feel like Headhunters got us closer, but there was something about Worf advising Kate on her relationship with Malcolm Reynolds, who was off gallivanting with John Casey that got my creative juices flowing... So here's yet another fix-it attempt for post 47 Seconds, The Limey, and now Headhunters.

Reviews are always appreciated! (And by that I mean they are like shiny little pieces of crack that most writers can't get enough of. And of course, by crack I mean chocolate...)

* * *

"What do you want to do?"

For Kate, the answer to her therapist's question involved a certain world-famous writer and the nearest available flat surface.

At one time in her life, that scenario would have been enough, but no longer. Now, she wanted more. Not only did she want the experience of skin on skin and breathless whispers in the dark, she wanted everything that came after. Mornings spent in bed as well as those interrupted by 3 am phone calls for dropped bodies. She wanted the hugs as well as the kisses, both the words and the touches.

She wanted forever, and that scared her to death.

A couple of days after the trial, things had gone back to normal, or as normal as normal could be lately. Castle was done following Slaughter, at least, and back with coffee. He extended it to her as a peace offering, but having been burned on that gesture so recently, Kate accepted it with caution.

But by the end of the day and a merciless trudge of a murder investigation, she was ready to throw caution to the wind. They were the last two there and she was finishing up paperwork while he played a game on his phone.

"Castle, are you seeing anyone right now?"

She forced the question out and schooled her features to betray nothing but mild curiosity. Perhaps concern. The concern of a friend. Because if nothing else, they were still friends, right?

His initial hesitation made her heart contract, but then he answered, "No, not really. No one serious."

"What about the flight attendant. What was her name?"

Kate remembered her name very well, but she didn't want him to know that.

"Jacinda."

"You're not still dating her?"

Castle shrugged. "She flew back to Las Vegas. We had fun, but that's all it was."

Did he seem... sad? She wanted to ask, but wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Before she could speak again, he said, "If you're thinking of setting me up with someone, please don't. After that blind date with Ryan's wife's friend, I think I'm off the market for a while."

Aha, the favor date. Kate had heard about that, in addition to a night's use of the Ferrari. Personally, she considered Ryan's price to be much more original than Esposito's request for Knicks tickets.

"That's too bad," she noted, letting her voice betray just a little bit of tease. Castle quirked an eyebrow at her, and she knew she had his attention. "I was actually going to ask if you wanted to get dinner sometime."

He stared at her, head cocked to one side, with the confusion mirroring that of a small child confronted by an algebra equation. Or a puppy trying to figure out the purpose of a lamp shade.

"Dinner?" he repeated.

"Yeah, Castle. Haven't you heard of that evening meal we usually miss because we're too busy working on a case?"

He nodded, slowly, thoughtfully, but still confused. "Yeah, I've... I've heard of it. I'm just not sure... what are you asking, Kate?"

And suddenly, the baby-canine-look was back, except this time he looked like a puppy afraid of being kicked. Whatever she had done to him, this was clearly the result.

"I'm asking if you want to go on a date, Castle."

"With you?"

Had she switched to speaking Russian at some point? This wasn't supposed to be so difficult. It was a simple yes or no question. And she had already fully prepared herself for rejection.

"No, with Jenny's other single friend. Yes, with me, Castle." He blinked once. Then twice. The silence was too much, and Kate decided this had been a bad idea after all. "Listen, never mind. It was stupid to ask-"

"The wall," he sputtered, interrupting her attempt to backtrack over herself. "What about the wall?"

The wall, indeed. So he did remember their conversation on the swings. She thought he'd forgotten, or perhaps misunderstood.

"I guess I'm tired of hiding behind it," Kate responded. "I'm tired of hiding and trying to heal while I hope that you wait for me."

He was looking at her again, this time his expression so intense as to be unreadable. "You were hoping I'd wait?" he asked.

The repeating thing he was doing should have annoyed her, but his earnestness was too much, and she had to look away. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of her own selfishness as well as the obvious pain in his voice.

"Yeah," she admitted. "I was hoping. I know it's not fair, I know I could never ask that of you, but..."

Risking a glance at him, Kate noticed that he seemed even more confused than ever. But, it wasn't necessarily a bad confused. In fact, he looked like he was smiling to himself.

"Ask me again," he said authoritatively.

Now, she was confused. "Ask you...?"

"Ask me out again."

Kate stared at him for half a second before formulating, "Would you go out on a date with me?"

Before the final word had even left her mouth, he was already nodding emphatically as he said, "Yes. Yes, I will."

She felt her brow wrinkle at him and his odd behavior, his strange reactions and sudden enthusiasm. "Are you sure?" Kate found herself inquiring. "Cause if this is too..." Too late? Too soon? Too much? Too weird?

"Oh, I'm not letting you take it back," Castle stated forcefully. "You asked me out, and I accepted. You owe me a date, Kate Beckett."

The way he said it, it sounded like that debt was long overdue.

"Tomorrow night?" she suggested, already considering options for restaurants she felt certain he had never visited. Assuming a body didn't drop in the mean time, she only had paperwork to complete, and she would not be on call that evening.

Castle was already agreeing. "Sounds good. Pick you up at seven?"

She thought about arguing, about insisting that as the one who asked, she should be the one to do the picking up. Instead, Kate said, "Make it seven thirty, and bring the Ferrari."

* * *

He was going to get a bruise, Castle decided. But he couldn't stop, it was just too much like his dreams to believe he wasn't asleep and having one at that very moment. So he pinched himself again. Good, it still hurt. Not a dream.

A date. Kate had asked him out on a date. _She_ had asked _him_.

He knew he should have confronted her about the lie, about what he knew she remembered from the day she was shot. But now that he knew the lie didn't mean what he thought it meant, the betrayal hurt less. He could let her tell him in her own time.

She said she wanted him to wait for her. And she asked him on a date.

That was good enough for him. Good enough for now.

"Where are you off to?" his mother asked him as he straightened his collar and pulled out the keys to the Ferrari from a drawer in the kitchen.

"I have a date," he announced, proudly.

Martha regarded him with skepticism and asked sarcastically, "Which airline is it this week - American or Delta?"

"Neither. I have a date with Detective Beckett."

The look on his mother's face probably mirrored his own from the day before, when Kate had broached the subject. "You do?" she asked before breaking into a genuine smile. "That's wonderful, Richard. I'm glad you finally came to your senses and asked her out."

"Actually, she asked me."

"Now don't you feel silly for that misunderstanding? Well, you kids have a good time. I won't wait up."

Castle didn't remember much between talking to his mother and knocking on Kate's door, only an intense feeling of anticipation. Looking down at the roses in hand, he realized he must have stopped somewhere and had a vague recollection of spending too much at a flower vendor.

All thoughts - as well as the ability to speak - abandoned him when she opened the door. The dress she wore to the embassy party had been gorgeous, leaving him more jealous than he wanted to admit. But this dress, this one she was wearing only for him, it was breathtaking. The dainty straps looked more decorative than functional, and the midnight blue color contrasted well against her skin.

"You look... beautiful," he managed. Talk about understatement. "Amazing," he amended the compliment. "You look amazing."

She smiled at him - one of those wide, Kate Beckett, 'light up the room' smiles. "Thanks. You look good, too."

He opened his mouth to say something else - there was something, wasn't there? - but he was too focused on Kate to make the words come out. She had done her hair up in a French twist, leaving her long neck bare. Her subtle eye makeup brought out the rich, deep hue of her eyes and the brighter shade of her lipstick.

Suddenly, she was saying something. "Are those for me?"

Obviously amused at his loss of words (how long had he been staring at her?), she was gesturing at the flowers.

"Oh, yes, of course." He handed them over to her, struggling to find something witty to say.

"They're beautiful," she said, and waived for him to come inside. "Thank you for the flowers, Castle."

The use of his last name caught his attention. As she headed for her kitchen, probably in search of a vase, he corrected her. "Rick."

Kate turned to look at him, a tad nervous. "Rick?" she inquired, as though use of the name would suddenly make everything more real.

"Please." She had only used his first name a handful of times, and while he loved the many inflections she put on "Castle," he wanted this to feel real. He had pinched himself so many times, he was no longer certain it was still working. Plus his arm was starting to get sore.

She nodded. "Okay… Rick."

He could get used to that sound, not to mention the softness of her voice as she said it.

"Rick?" There it was again. "Um, Castle?"

Realizing she was trying to get his attention, he looked up. A cabinet door was open and she was pointing to a vase on the top shelf, just out of her reach. "Would you grab that for me?"

Even with her heels on, he was slightly taller, and he was able to get his hand around the base of the crystal cylinder. Interestingly, Kate did not give him space in this endeavor, instead letting him slide up to the counter just next to her, their shoulders touching. She also did not move as he handed it over to her, nor did she look away when he gazed deeply into her eyes. They had exchanged looks before, but this one was so open, so full of promise...

She looked away first, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "We should go," she said, taking a step towards the door.

"Kate," Rick said, holding out a hand to stop her. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

As he nodded towards the flowers and the vase, both sitting next to each other on the counter, he realized that he wasn't the only one affected by their closeness.

"Oh, flowers. Right."

* * *

God, he looked amazing. And he smelled amazing. And sounded, well… amazing.

Kate had already re-revised her internal answer to Dr. Burke's "What do you want to do?" question to go back to her original response - Rick Castle on the closest flat surface.

Rick.

She was actually calling him by his first name. And the expression on his face when she did...

Probably best that she'd forgotten her wrap in the Ferrari. The restaurant was plenty warm and her own thoughts were keeping her plenty flushed.

Having picked out the restaurant, Kate had insisted on driving. She used her knowledge of the location as justification for driving the car, but really, she needed to feel a little more in control. This change in their relationship was exciting - dizzyingly so, but it was also a little frightening.

She was on a date with Rick Caste.

"Ma'am, what would you like to order?" the waiter asked, and she had the feeling it wasn't the first time. She really needed to focus.

Picking something from random off the menu - she remembered everything being good - Kate redirected her attention to her date, who was admiring the restaurant.

"Yeah, I love this place," she said, looking around. In addition to good food at reasonable prices, the atmosphere was classy and on most nights they had a live band with a small but intimate dance floor. "I haven't been here in a long time."

He was looking at her in that way he used to do, as though she were some precious, fascinating thing he couldn't take his eyes off. Considering his recent aloofness, she was glad to have the old Castle back.

"I'm glad you brought me," he said, sounding very sincere, then added, "I'm glad you asked me out."

She laughed nervously and before she could stop herself remarked, "I was actually kind of surprised you said yes." She cringed at the embedded accusation and tried to cover it. "I mean, lately things have been tense, and that's probably my fault for waiting so long-"

"No, Kate," he interrupted her, "I was acting like a fool. I made a mistake..." He paused for a second, probably trying to find the proper wording. "I heard something and made an assumption. I thought you didn't have those... these kinds of feelings for me. And I thought it would be best if I took a step back."

She regarded him curiously for a moment, but he did not continue. "Are you going to tell me what you heard?"

"Maybe later. But right now, I'd rather enjoy the company of my date."

As if on cue, the waiter brought two glasses and the bottle of wine Rick must have ordered. After tasting it and pouring them both a glass, he held his up to toast. "To jumping over walls, no longer waiting, and..."

"-and to finally doing what you want to do," Kate completed, hearing Dr. Burke's voice in her head.

As their glasses clinked, Rick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her addition to the toast, and she laughed. Somehow, he always knew how to diffuse situations and find humor in just about any circumstance. It was one of the things she missed most when he was doing his 'taking a step back' routine.

After they both took a sip of wine, Rick said, "So, now that we are here, on our very first date, in this very fine restaurant... I think it's time you told me some of those stories from your wild child days."

They talked through dinner with the ease and affability of the close friends they were. As they flirted and bantered their way through the meal and most of a bottle of wine, Rick decided that this was probably the best first date he had ever been on. Not only did they know each other well enough to skip past all the typical 'first date' questions and stories, there was no attempt to pretend to be other than what they were.

Kate laughed easily at his jokes, and he did not have to wonder if she were pretending - he knew her mirth was genuine. And when she made some teasing comment to him, he knew her meaning without having to parse it.

The one topic they had avoided was murder.

"No shop talk," Kate said when he began an anecdote about a suspect they had interviewed a few weeks before. "Tell me which colleges Alexis got accepted to..."

* * *

By the time they finished their chocolate mouse dessert, Rick had finally worked up the nerve to ask her to dance. He had internally debated on it, not wanting to be compared to her most recent dance partner, the detective from Scotland Yard. But as Kate's eyes lit up and she immediately gave him her hand, he knew he had made the correct decision.

The song the band played was slow and easy, allowing him to put one hand on her back as she put hers on his shoulder. Their free hands were clasped, and he realized - not for the first time - how physically striking Kate really was. While he had always admired her height, her waist was extremely slender. Her arms and shoulders betrayed the toning of someone used to exercise, but she was not overly muscular. And she moved with the grace and elegance of a dancer. He supposed that she could have been a model if she'd ever had a mind for it.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, and Rick realized he had probably been staring.

"I was trying to figure out who won the pool, the one on us finally going out together," he said jokingly, causing her to blush. He loved watching her blush.

"I didn't know they started it up again," Kate observed.

Curious, he returned, "I didn't know they'd stopped it."

"Oh yeah, a couple of times. I think the last time was the summer after the shooting..."

Realizing the topic she had brought up and possibly seeing his pained expression, Kate ducked her head slightly and diverted her gaze to the buttons on his shirt. Her voice betrayed guilt as she said, "I'm sorry about that. I really wasn't fair to you."

They were getting close to that lie he had put off telling her knew about, and Rick waited to see if she would bring it up on her own. Surprisingly, she didn't, perhaps too focused on her contrition for not having called him for those three months after she was shot.

"Water under the bridge," he said, burying his disappointment that she hadn't confessed about the lie and hoping it didn't sound forced. But she wasn't finished.

"Actually, since I came back, I've been talking to someone."

"Someone?" he asked, feeling that old familiar ache in his heart at the thought of her with another man.

"A therapist. I've been talking to a therapist, trying to work through my issues."

Relief flooded through him, and Rick held her a little tighter at the revelation as well as his own silliness. The band changed to a new song, but kept the rhythm slow and steady. Only a few couples were still on the dance floor, but they kept their distance.

"How's that going?" he asked, really wishing she would look back up at him.

But she kept her eyes focused on his shirt. "Good, I think. He really helps me work through things."

Time to be bold. "You ever talk about me?"

Her eyes shot up to his, and he held her gaze as closely as he held her. "Yes," Kate answered. "Lately, a lot."

"Lately?" he inquired.

She shrugged slightly. "The last few weeks."

Oh.

Yeah, that made sense.

"It seemed like there was something going on with you, but you wouldn't tell me what," she continued. "I thought I'd lost my chance."

"I guess I thought the same thing," he admitted, "That I'd lost my chance with you."

"Rick, earlier you said you heard something, and you made an assumption about me not having feelings for you. Please tell me what it was. I spent weeks trying to figure out what I did to upset you, and I just..." Her voice wavered and she took a deep, steadying breath. "I need to know."

For a brief second, he considered putting her off again or pretending that there wasn't anything. But the lie still bothered him, tickled the back of his brain unpleasantly as he tried to piece it in with the rest of her behavior. Deciding that he needed his own answers, he responded honestly.

"I overheard you say you remember everything from the day you were shot."

* * *

Kate felt as though she had been punched. All the oxygen had left her chest and she couldn't force her lungs to bring more in. Luckily, Rick's arms were steadying her, and she didn't fall. Unluckily, being in his arms meant she was still under his close and careful scrutiny.

How do you explain lying about something like that? Kate really didn't know. She had put off telling him so long because she had no good answers, nothing that didn't sound horrible, selfish, and bitchy. Perhaps part of her hoped she would never have to tell him, that they could move forward without her having to admit what a terrible person she was for lying.

Apparently not.

"I'm so sorry, Rick," she said finally.

"Why did you lie?" He sounded so hurt and confused, and Kate wished she could give him something to fix it. She hated herself for having caused him that pain.

"I lied because I was scared. I never intended to hurt you."

But it wasn't enough of an explanation. He pursued it with, "But you heard me, you heard what I said?"

"Yes, I heard you."

Without thinking, Kate slipped her hand from his and pulled away. She couldn't do this on a dance floor, wrapped securely in his arms. She couldn't put him through that either.

He let her go, and she turned to walk back to the table. Once there, she thought about grabbing her purse and leaving, but she knew she had to face what she had wrought. Rick deserved that much.

He took his seat across from her at the table and she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I heard you tell me you loved me, and when you asked me in the hospital what I remembered, I lied."

There it was. She'd finally said it to someone other than Dr. Burke. Taking in his sad eyes and uncomfortable expression, she wondered what she'd ever done to earn the love of such a man.

"What were you afraid of?" he asked, and the gentleness in his question stung her. It would be so much easier if he screamed and hurled angry accusations at her.

"I was afraid of you," she said after a moment. "I was afraid of being loved like that. You once told me I deserved to be happy, but I don't think I really believed it until that moment. You were right - I was afraid. But it wasn't just that."

She stopped speaking for a moment, trying to formulate the right words. Before he could prompt her, she continued on.

"After I was shot, I was so messed up, both emotionally and physically. I knew I couldn't give you the kind of love and happiness you deserved. It just wasn't in me then. Hell, when I talked to you in the hospital, I hadn't even broken up with Josh yet." She gave an empty, emotionless laugh. "You deserved better, and I'm sorry, Rick. But please know that I've been trying. I've been trying to be better, for you."

He was silent for several seconds before saying, "Kate..."

Resignation rolled off him in waves, and she fought against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Please forgive me," she said, reaching across the table to take his hands in hers. If only she could will him to stay, to give her another chance. She fought against the tears that had begun to prick at he back of her eyes, not wanting to subject him to that. "Please," she said again.

Rick squeezed her hands, and for one long, agonizing second, she thought he would leave. But then his face softened, and she could see her own tears mirrored in his eyes. Lifting both her hands in his, he gently pressed his lips to them in a silent kiss. "I'll forgive you if you forgive me," he offered.

"You haven't done anything-" she began, but he cut her off.

"I've been a jackass to you recently, and I know it. That whole thing with Slaughter, and Jacinda… I'm sorry. I should have come and talk to you immediately, rather than assume the worst. Kate, you deserve everything," he told her. "And I want to be the person who gives it to you."

* * *

He drove her home that night. After their conversation in the restaurant, Kate had simply handed the Ferrari keys to him without a word. But once he parked the car on the street outside her building, he held her hand as he walked her up to her apartment.

"You really are so incredibly beautiful," Rick told her as they stood outside her front door, and he didn't just mean the dress. The freedom to say such things openly, without censorship, was almost as heady as being able to touch her without fear of being shot.

"So I want you to tell me the truth," he said, not letting go of her hand. "Am I as good a dancer as Detective Inspector Hunt from Scotland Yard?" He asked the question in a bad English accent and delighted in her responsive laughter.

"You are a much better dancer, Mr. Castle," she informed him, matching his playfulness.

Letter go of her hand, he reached up to touch the dainty little strap of her dress. "And a better investigator?"

She smiled coyly. "Yeah, I think so."

The last question come out jealously, but he forced his tone to remain light. "What about a better kisser?"

Kate rolled her eyes at him in mock annoyance at his attempt to extract information. "I wouldn't know. I never kissed Detective Inspector Hunt."

Rick wished he could tell her he had likewise resisted temptation, but he couldn't He had kissed Jacinda exactly twice. The first time was at the end of what she called their 'crime scene date,' but he hadn't pushed for more. The second time was the night they wrapped up the case against the British Diplomat, the same night he'd broken up with her. Something about the way Kate had looked at him when he said "fun and uncomplicated" had made him feel like too much of a jerk to continue the relationship. Besides, the bubbly flight attendant didn't hold a candle to Kate.

Speaking of kissing, this particular moment was one he had been looking forward to ever since that night in a dark alley when they had pretended to be a drunken couple. Except this time, he didn't have to pretend anything, and there were no pesky gun-wielding criminals to interrupt. There was only Kate, looking at him expectantly in her blue dress and bare neck and mouth quirked into a smile.

As Rick leaned forward and angled his lips to meet hers, she closed her eyes and put a palm on his chest to steady herself. Her hair felt like silk in his hands and her lips like velvet as he brushed them with his. He thought it would be slow and chaste, this first real kiss between them. But Kate surprised him by her fervor, seeking out his tongue with hers, expressing her inner feelings with obvious passion. She tasted of wine and chocolate mousse, of hope and love and happiness.

When they finally broke apart, she moved the hand on his chest up to play with the collar of his shirt. "Do you want to come in?" she asked, low and sexy. His mind suddenly conjured an image of Kate not in that dress and he momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Rick meant to say, "Yes!" but somehow his brain made his mouth state, "I shouldn't tonight..."

Maybe some part of him saw the nervousness mixed with desire in her eyes. Maybe he thought it would be a good idea to take it slow. Maybe he needed her so much in that moment, he feared looking like a fool. Whatever his reasons, he realized he had made the correct decision when she nodded slightly, looking both disappointed and relieved at his words.

"We can take this slow," he proposed. "After all, this is only our first date."

She grinned. "Hell of a first date."

"Which reminds me, when can I see you again?"

Snorting at him, Kate responded, "How about tomorrow? You know, at work. That place we go to solve murders."

"Will you be wearing this dress?" he asked, once again fingering that slip of fabric masquerading as a strap.

"No." Another eye roll, although she was clearly enjoying the banter.

"Then what about dinner tomorrow night?"

She bit her lip. That had always been endearing - when did it become so sexy? "I'm on call."

"Well you still have to eat. I could come over and bring a movie and take-out."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be very romantic..." she said, although the idea seemed to please her.

"As long as I get to kiss you again, it's romantic enough for me."

Kate smiled at him, suddenly looking for all the world like the Cheshire cat. "I think that can be arranged."

She kissed him again, slower this time, but with just as much tenderness. As she pulled away, she said, "Good night, Rick."

"Good night, Kate."

As the door shut behind her, Rick pinched himself one more time. Good, it still hurt. Not a dream.


End file.
